The Transition: Unexpected Life Lessons from a Pagoda among the mountains

********************** sequeL: check my previous post!*******************

I have to hurry, they tell me. So, I choose the first two outfits in my size and follow the novices with uncertain steps in my new look: for the first time in my life, I wear XXL! I don't quite know what to expect, but there's anticipation in the air.

In a crowded room, they hand me a music score and place me in the choir. Thanks to my height, I secure the back row. They inform me that we will sing one of the pieces composed by the Master who will arrive soon. From now on, my task will be to observe those around me carefully and act accordingly.

A silent bow from the choir, interrupted by the musical base, introduces the Master. His serious look transforms into a jovial encouragement, and the choir gains confidence. The performance is rewarded with a delicious vegetarian dinner, after which the Master speaks for over an hour in another packed room. The novice translating for me and I sit at the back, facing a large monitor outside, not to disturb the hundreds of people gathered. We are too many for one room. At the end of the lecture on the concept of "right mind," I am told that the evening meditation will not take place. It’s time to prepare for the night's rest. I receive the persistent and unwavering attentiveness of my companions with all the grace I have left. Contrary to my habits I follow orders without having any energy to dissent.

The sound of a Tibetan bell brings me back to the harsh reality of the floor, where I litteraly find myself, about fifty drowsy novices like me and, to my great surprise, an iguana climbing a wall! The 6 hours of sleep allotted must be over since the clock shows 4 in the morning.

I am gestured to follow the group. We head into the night towards a part of the temple that is new to me. The colors of the robes we wear identify our rank. Mine is the same as the novices who have been living in the pagoda for months, sometimes years. I try to carefully repeat their rituals, but I am corrected multiple times. The extreme attention to detail by my companions and my poor posture during the hour of meditation immediately put my mind and body to the test. Everyone around me seems to be at peace in the lotus position, while I fail at all the meditation techniques I know. I hope to lift my spirits with the following half-hour of Qigong, but the continuous corrections from the novice assigned to guide me, further escalate my frustration.

After a delicious and comforting breakfast, my shift in the kitchen begins. It's a huge kitchen where at least fifty people work. The women around me instruct me, often only through gestures and smiles. With some, I manage to have great conversations in English about what brought them to live in the pagoda. A strong sense of community emerges, a clear path ahead made of many rules, few questions, and an ambitious goal: to have a better next life than this one.

My rational thinking leads me to want to maximize this life, as it’s the only one I am sure of. On the other hand, I realize that my way of living is also difficult for them to understand. To each their own axioms, I tell myself. The beauty of diversity lies precisely in knowing how to engage with respect, suspending judgment, and seeking what can be learned from others.

The rest of the day brings me many questions. Even mundane moments like lunch or washing laundry, with all the rituals and rules to follow, turn into an adventure. And, of course, I am continually corrected. Many things I don't understand and leave me puzzled.

The next day, during my kitchen shift, I decide to express my feelings. "I am suffering," I say in response to the question "how are you?".

A nun repeats my words as if trying to find their meaning. She starts chatting with one of the nuns sitting next to her who, after a few minutes, timidly approaches me. She is not confident in her English, she tells me, but the discussion gradually becomes more open and sincere. While peeling unfamiliar vegetables, we talk at length:

• When she first arrived, she couldn't stay in the lotus position either. It took her more than 6 months of constant practice for her body and mind to allow her to maintain the position for an hour.

• Being able to maintain the lotus position doesn't mean being able to meditate. We cannot know what others are experiencing internally, even if, based on their appearance, it seems we do.

• The frustration we feel because it seems others are doing better than us is useless and unfounded. The only thing that makes sense to focus on is our inner world.

• Over time, the suffering passes, the body changes, and so does the mind.

• Using cushions or supports in meditation would slow down the path aimed at

  • seeing reality for what it is - not for what we are,

  • thinking correctly to then act correctly in order to purify our karma.

• Everything that happens to us is a consequence of our karma. Negative experiences are especially useful because they give us the chance to make up for our past (life) shortcomings. This way of thinking, whether it is right or wrong, defenitly helps me accept the unpleasant things I am still processing and struggling to understand.

The open confrontation with people who seemed so different from me reminds me that, deep down, we are all the same. The feeling of peace that arises from this will be short-lived because painful news from Italy forces me to confront the theme of grief. Although distance takes on a different meaning in these situations, despite all the difficulties I am experiencing, I feel I am in the right place to accompany from afar the passing of my cousin, who seemed to have found meaning in life in his family, friends, and his passion for motorcycles, which he turned into a profession carried on with dedication until the grave.

It is not up to me to say what the right way to live is; everyone chooses their own, including being part of a religious community and dedicate this life to the next one. What matters is living according to one's values, following that call that leads us to take one path rather than another, often without really knowing why. And if the path turns out to be wrong, change it. And if we find ourselves standing at the crossroads not knowing where to go, take the time to ask ourselves what really matters, having faith that the answer will come if we are prepared to receive it.

What are your values or north star guiding you when you feel lost in life?

Of the topics discussed, which intrigued you the most?

Feel free to answer my questions in the comment section.

See you in the next post, for further reflections.

In the below pictures:

• me learning to make tofu from scratch in the pagoda

• the iguana willing to live with us :)